


Riddles

by trollkin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gas Masks, Indirect Speech, Jane is only mentioned once, LOTAK, Light Angst, M/M, Metaphors, Relationship Problems, Relationship(s), Romance, Song Lyrics, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollkin/pseuds/trollkin
Summary: Dirk and Jake have relationship problems, and Jake is speaking in riddles.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 10





	Riddles

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on two song lyric prompts:
> 
> I am your terracotta pot.  
> Give me your basil, give me your daisies, give me your dirt.  
> (Nightstand Drawer by Heather Maloney)
> 
> One-track mind, one-track heart,  
> If I fail I'll fall apart.  
> (Oh No! by Marina and the Diamonds)

I don't know what you want. What I have to do. Please tell me, said Mr. Strider.

Mr. English, who wasn't from England, replied in riddles. I am your terracotta pot. Give me your basil, give me your daisies, give me your dirt.

Strider slumped his shoulders. Jake... You're not one of your grandma's gardening tools. I don't know what that means. But English had already disconnected.

Mr. Strider sat up straight again. Of course he could figure out what it meant, but why would Mr. English never speak directly about what he wanted? How was this relationship supposed to work if the didn't communicate properly? Mr. English randomly disconnecting whenever he felt like it didn't help the issue.

Since it didn't seem like English would reply, Mr. Strider sat down to think.

Basil is a spice, daisies are flowers. They stand for the pretty and the useful.

Dirt is, well, dirty. It sticks to your fingers and shoes and ruins the carpet. It's made of dead things. But it's also what the flowers and spices need to grow.

Mr. Strider remembers from the TV shows that he watched while growing up that the best-working relationships are those without shame or secrets. He is reluctant to get too personal, but he really wants this relationship to work; and being fully open with someone, while scary, might also be nice. Comfortable. Trusting.

Those are words for everything that he is not.

Mr. Strider has a one-track mind: He wants to succeed. He wants to get them out of this session, all while being perfect. That's his goal and expectation for himself.

He has a one-track heart: It's set on Jake. It has always been set on Jake. It probably always will be.

So here he goes, he has one shot at this. If he fails, he'll fall apart.

I guess I have to try and trust him.

Mr. Strider prepares a few deliveries. Basil seeds. A bouquet of daisies. And an empty bag that says finest flower soil on the label. Inside he sticks a note. Please pick up the dirtbag yourself.

He has Brobot deliver the parcels to Mr. English, and finds him knocking on his door not long after. I've come to pick up the dirtbag he says, laughing. Mr. Strider joins him and they take a walk through the beautiful landscape riddled with tombs. Both have to wear gas masks, so they talk via Pesterchum.

So, Mr. Strider begins. I figured it out. You want me to open up to you, is that right? Spill the metaphorical tea, dig up the dirt on myself?

Mr. English replies enthusiastically. Golly, you really figured it out! Jane was right -- you see, she said I should speak your language for this. She's been giving me lots of advice, the good fella! Yes, I love seeing your good sides and your robots and programs are very useful, but I just can't see us having a relationship in which we don't tell each other what's really bothering us.

Mr. Strider nods and tries to collect himself. He prefers to appear collected at all times, but this is fucking hard. Jake, he begins. Darnzers, Dirk! I'm sorry, have I been pushing too hard for you to reply? I didn't mean for you to feel pressured. Opening up can be hard, but I'm here when you are ready!

I don't mean that you have to tell me all your secrets right now, just... Some of them, some day. Is that too much to ask?

Mr. Strider has lost most of his cool by now, but the retraction from Mr. English helps him calm down and at the same time, he feels something changing in him. Like a door opening. He turns to face Mr. English, opens his arms and hugs him. Not a manly shoulder squeeze, but a heartfelt hug. With head resting on shoulder and everything.

Mr. English reciprocates, and when Mr. Strider murmurs that he will, Mr. English understands the sentiment even through the gas masks.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me why I used the rhetorical devices that I did. I do not know.


End file.
